


it's morning now, it's brighter now

by fireflyslove



Series: Morning (Obsidian Trilogy) [1]
Category: The Obsidian Trilogy - Mercedes Lackey & James Mallory
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyslove/pseuds/fireflyslove
Summary: Kellen loved children.Or, Kellen and Vestakia have a baby.
Relationships: Vestakia/Kellen Tavadon
Series: Morning (Obsidian Trilogy) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611268
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	it's morning now, it's brighter now

**Author's Note:**

> Far outside my usual stomping grounds, but also my very favorite book series of all time. 
> 
> Ok this is probably the most self-indulgent piece of fic I've ever written, and I'm aware there's like me and eight other people who would read this, but, well, isn't that what fanfiction is for?
> 
> I'm doing my biannual reread of the Obsidian Trilogy, and this time around it struck me how much Kellen loves Sandalon, and I needed to see Kellen as a father. Sooooooooooo have this, I guess. 
> 
> Also Shalkan because everyone should experience Shalkan. (Shalkan's my very favorite character of all time)
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's Daylight

Kellen loved children. There had never been much doubt of that. From his first day in Sentarshadeen, he had formed a fast friendship with a five year old boy. And though he himself, looking back, had been a child still, a gulf of twelve years was more than most would overcome for the sake of companionship. But… he had found Sandalon’s simple view of the world refreshing, and found that he actually liked the boy as a person. (Never mind that the child had been far easier to talk to in those early days than any adult Elf.)

Now, six years later, he still valued Sandalon’s company. At twelve, the prince was surprisingly mature, but… he had experienced much for a young boy, and that had aged him beyond his years. Still, though, he was not above a game of tag now and then, especially when his little sister roped him into it. 

Siblings so close in age were uncommon among the Elves, or, at least they had been before the Flowering. The Flowering had resulted in an outpouring of offspring among all the races of the light, and even the Elves had not gone unblessed. 

Elves within twenty years of Sandalon’s age before the Flowering had numbered in the dozens.

Elven children born since numbered in the hundreds. 

Idalia did not lack for playmates, but her favorites were still her brother, Kellen, Vestakia, and Jermayan. Jermayan was often away, off with Ancaladar, searching for other dragons. His latest venture had taken him far across the Western Sea to islands unknown. 

Kellen relieved Lairamo of her charges at least one afternoon a week, taking Sandalon and Idalia for rambling walks through the Flower Forest around Sentarshadeen. Sometimes Vestakia joined them, though lately she had been up to her elbows in experiments with the healers and the shepherds. He didn’t quite understand what they were trying to do, though she had explained it at length, but it had something to do with the amount and quality of wool that the sheep were producing. 

Today found them wandering through the forest paths, Idalia and Sandalon playing hide and seek as Kellen strolled slowly among the trees. A soft step behind him made him turn, and he found himself looking at a deer. It was an ordinary deer in every way except for its coloring. It was white, not as white as a unicorn, of course, but a pale pink color that made it look fragile. Sandalon came running around the corner of a tree, and the animal started, bounding off into the forest, the vines and ferns quickly veiling it from sight.

“That was an odd deer,” Sandalon said. His speech among his own people took the circuitous forms of his elders, but with Kellen he often reverted to a far more direct approach that he had formed in his younger years. 

“It was,” Kellen agreed. “But there are many odd things these days.”

Idalia, growing impatient with her brother’s finding skills, rounded from behind a tree, looking cross. It was still odd for Kellen to see an expression he had been so familiar with on his sister’s Human face on an elven child’s, but there was no doubt that this was Idalia. 

“Sandalon, you’re not playing right,” she scolded. 

“Idalia, there was a deer,” Sandalon said. 

“We’re in the woods, Sandalon, there’s  _ lots  _ of deers,” Idalia said, rolling her eyes

“I”m sure there are,” Kellen said, cutting off what promised to be a drawn out spat. “But perhaps we should go consult one of the books in your parents’ library to find out if there are other reports of white deer.”

Idalia, even at five, hungered for knowledge, and the offer of a book was the best way to distract her. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon perusing the natural history section of the library at the House of Leaf and Star, until Ashaniel came to collect her children from Kellen’s care. 

“There is an odd deer living in the Flower Forest,” Sandalon said, observing to the empty air. It didn’t have quite the same graceful manner that an adult Elf’s speech might have, but it was clear that he was trying very hard to get his mother to ask about his day without outright telling her about it. 

Ashaniel and the children bade Kellen farewell, and he took his leave of them, Sandalon’s fading voice telling his mother everything he had learned about leucistic deer. 

It was early summer, and light lingered long into the evenings at this time of year, so Kellen took the long way home. He passed by the unicorn meadow, watching a pair of of unicorn foals playing. He felt a brief pang of… not quite sadness, but something akin to it, at the loss of Shalkan’s companionship. Kellen had lost a great deal at the end of the war, and gained a great deal since, but there would always be a small rift where the unicorn’s friendship had once lived in Kellen’s heart. The bonds forged in the fire of war were not so easily broken. 

Kellen turned from the meadow and headed toward his home. It was one of the dwellings built into the walls of the canyon, not so distant from the first home he had lived in when he came to Sentarshadeen. The lantern hanging on its hook outside the front door, not yet lit, was covered in tiny copper seashells. 

He entered, kicking off his boots as he passed through the front door, and setting them on the small, durable rug beside the cloak rack, empty at this season. Vestakia insisted on taking off shoes inside the house, and Kellen wasn’t going to argue with her on that. It was nice not to have to sweep so much dirt out.

Vestakia was still not home, but Kellen’s stomach rumbled, alerting him to the fact that he had not eaten since lunch, a meal that had been a very long time ago. He turned to the kitchen, where a pot of soup he had helped Vestakia prepare that morning simmered away. Lifting the lid, he inhaled the savory aroma. She would be home soon, and would not be pleased with him if he didn’t wait for her to eat. He went to the larder, taking out a loaf of bread and a small sugar cake. The latter he popped into his mouth, and the former, the oven. 

By the time Vestakia arrived home, the bread was as hot as if it had been fresh baked, and Kellen was ladling the soup into bowls. He glanced over his shoulder at the opening door, and smiled at Vestakia as she entered. 

“How fare the sheep?” he asked. 

“Hmm?” Vestakia asked, sounding distracted. “Oh, they’re well.”

“Hungry?” 

“Famished,” Vestakia said. 

That was good, Kellen thought. Vestakia’s appetite had been off of late. 

He doled out their food and brought it to the table, pouring a pair of cups with a bright summer wine. 

Vestakia ate her food quickly, and without conversation. This was not unusual for them, Vestakia had lived alone for many years, and Kellen had grown up with the habit of not speaking at the dinner table. 

After she was done eating, Vestakia regarded the cup of wine warily. She tilted it, the last rays of the summer sun striking the glass with a varicolored rainbow. 

“Something wrong?” Kellen asked. 

“I think I should stick to tea and juice,” Vestakia said after a long moment. Then she looked up from the glass, “For the next few moonturns, anyway.”

Kellen’s heart kicked up a beat. 

“One observes that you have enjoyed this wine in years past,” he said, the familiar forms of elven courtesy feeling oddly natural. He almost felt like he was rising out of his body. 

“I have,” Vestakia said. “But this year is not like other years.”

Kellen scrutinized her face. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed the very subtle change in the color of her skin, but to Kellen’s eye, she looked just the slightest bit paler. 

“Vestakia,” he said, rising and coming to her side of the table. “Are you all right?”

“All right?” she asked, staring down at the table, her hands clenched. She looked up at him, a strange mixture of apprehension and hope on her face. “I’m more than all right. I’m…” she paused, as if she couldn’t quite say the word. 

Kellen knelt next to her, taking her hands in his. “Vestakia,” he said. “I love you. Whatever it is, I will always love you.”

“I am… with child,” she finally said. 

Kellen’s heart leapt.  _ Pregnant _ ! He had thought so, but to hear the words from her lips made him happier than he had thought possible. His face lit up, and the apprehension disappeared from hers. 

“Vestakia!” he said. “You are going to have a child!  _ Our _ child!”

She smiled then, a wide thing that showed her teeth. “I am,” she said. “You are not… disappointed?” 

“Why would I be disappointed?” Kellen asked, genuinely confused.

“What if the child… resembles me?” she asked. 

_ Oh _ , Kellen thought. Then aloud, “Vestakia, I love  _ you _ . If our child looks like you, I will love them just the same.”

“Truly?” Vestakia asked. 

“Truly.” Kellen said. 

-

It was fall when Vestakia began to show, and Kellen found himself spending time just gazing at the curve of her abdomen. She was still uncomfortable with the change in her body sometimes, so he always asked before touching her. 

In the middle of the night, she woke him with a shake of the arm. He came instantly awake, a habit he had never broken since the war, reaching for a weapon.

“No,” she murmured, taking his hand and putting it on her stomach. “Just feel.”

There was nothing but the soft expanse of her flesh under his hand for a long moment, and then… just the slightest bit of movement against his fingers. 

“Hello,” he said, awe filling his voice.

-

The snows of winter howled through the canyon of Sentarshadeen, and Kellen was loathe to go out in it. Vestakia had taken to nesting with a vengeance, and the baby’s room was currently undergoing its third renovation in as many sennights. Kellen finally called a halt to the furniture moving at noon for a meal break, and fairly bodily dragged Vestakia to the table.

“I’ve been thinking,” Vestakia said. “About what we should call the baby.”

“Oh?” Kellen asked. He hadn’t given it much thought himself. People just seemed to… have names. In the City, Mageborn were, or had been, anyway, named after ancestors and heroes of the City’s past. The Elves named their children in the ancient elven language, and he hadn’t spent enough time among the Humans or centaurs to learn their naming customs. 

“They are going to need a name,” she said. “And I wondered your opinion.”

“Whatever you think will work,” Kellen said with a shrug.

Vestakia rolled her eyes at him. “Fine, I’ll call them Slug, then.”

Kellen could tell she was baiting him, but he didn’t take it… quite. “Excellent. I had a great great uncle Slug,” he said.

She snorted a laugh, recognizing that he had won this one. 

“Actually, if it’s all right with you,” he said. “Now that I think about it, I’d rather not name them after anyone. My father always held it over my head that I had been named after the great Kellen Tavadons of eons past.”

“I was named after my grandfather,” Vestakia said, “Vestak, a man I never met. And to be honest, there aren’t many people I’d want to name a baby after anyway.”

“Idalia’s the only one I can think of,” Kellen said. “And that would be a little strange, considering she’s running around the city.”

“I agree,” Vestakia said. “So what do you think of…”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in a long debate. Kellen had no vested interest, but it seemed Vestakia wanted to talk about every name she suggested at length, and Kellen was willing to indulge her. 

-

It was near Kindling when Vestakia woke in the middle of the night, clutching at Kellen’s arm. 

“It’s time,” she said. 

-

As the sun set, the Elven healer emerged from their bedroom to where Kellen paced in the small living room. He looked exhausted, but not unhappy. 

“Congratulations,” he said, holding out a hand toward the open door.

Kellen took the invitation for what it was, and quickly went through. Vestakia laid propped up against the headboard, a bevy of pillows behind her. Sweat still streaked her scarlet skin, and she looked tired, but an aura of contentment surrounded her. She held a small blanket wrapped bundle in her arms, and glanced up at Kellen when he entered, a smile on her face. 

“Say hello,” she said to the bundle in her arms. “This is your Papa.”

Kellen carefully took the bundle from her, looking down at the infant within, and his whole world shifted. He felt a wave of love he didn’t know he was capable of wash over him as he gazed down at the baby.

The baby appeared just as Human as Kellen did, but for one aspect. The skin was shell pink, the eyes the same grey-blue of all newborns, pupils round. Ears as round as Kellen’s, no horns sprouted from the baby’s forehead. Above the forehead, however, was a thick shock of hair, tightly curled, cherry red. Just like Vestakia’s.

“It’s a girl,” Vestakia said. 

“Hello,” Kellen said. “Hello Lyra.”

-

The storm took three days to blow over, and neither of the new parents wanted to take Lyra out into the cold. She wouldn’t officially exist until she went out into the city, but they had had visitors. Sandalon had been the first to greet Lyra, his expression grave as he held the tiny infant. 

Though Vestakia did not wish to leave, when Kellen told her his destination, she agreed to let him bundle Lyra up and take her out. 

He tucked his daughter closely against his undertunic, wrapping his outer clothes tightly around her. It was a pleasant walk to the unicorn meadow, the sun bright overhead. It was a warm day for such a bright one, but Kellen’s breath still steamed ahead of him. There was a small structure, not much more than a windbreak with a roof, just in the trees near Songmairie, Kellen’s destination.

The herd of unicorns that usually haunted the spring was missing, save for one unicorn, standing in the shelter. Even against the fresh white snow, Shalkan looked whiter than should be possible. His fur was entirely fluffed out against the cold, making him look like an animate snow sculpture. As Kellen drew closer, he stopped at a respectful distance, allowing Shalkan to close the gap.

“Well come closer,” Shalkan snapped. He was obviously irritated by Kellen’s presence, but willing to tolerate it for now. “You don’t want her to freeze, do you?”

Kellen didn’t need to be told twice, he stepped into the shelter, where the temperature was noticeably warmer. He withdrew his daughter from her sling, and she squirmed at the loss of heat.

Shalkan gazed at her, an unreadable expression on his face. He extended his muzzle and lipped at her cheek gently. 

“She looks a great deal like you,” he said to Kellen.

“I think she looks like Vestakia,” Kellen said.

“It’s hard to tell when they’re so… squished,” Shalkan said.

Kellen barked a surprised laugh, “Oh, don’t let Vestakia hear you say that.”

Lyra began to snuffle, like she was going to cry, and Kellen quickly tucked her back into her sling, warm against his body.

“Kellen,” Shalkan said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Kellen said simply. 

“I have to admit, when I met you that night in the Delfier Valley, I did not expect that seven years later I would be meeting your daughter in Elven lands.”

“Neither did I,” Kellen said. “And… if you don’t mind, I have a favor I’d like to ask.”

Shalkan inclined his head.

“Among Humans there is the custom of a godparent, a person who would step in if the child’s parents met a…, well. We have asked Cilarnen, but he is very far away, and…”

“Kellen, are you asking me to be Lyra’s protector?” Shalkan asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yes,” Kellen said.

“With all my heart,” Shalkan said. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on the sides of unicorns @fireflyslove.


End file.
